Blurry
by xthefirestillburns
Summary: A father never wants to give up their child, but sometimes you just don't want to hurt those who matter to you the most, even if that means passing a part of you off to the friend you've clearly betrayed. Sheamus/OC
1. Prologue

**Author's Note**:Well I finally decided to upload this after fighting within myself for months to create another Sheamus fic. The prologue is a flashback of what is more to come, this is simply the backstory. Enjoy.

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Prologue

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"You have a sick mother, the last thing you need to deal with is a small child."

Those were the last few words that came to mind before it finally dawned on me that she didn't want me in his life; the mother of me child didn't want me to have any role as co-parent of the little life that was forming inside of her, nevermind the numerous times that stated me presence in the baby's life would be more than just some weekend visitor or some deadbeat who only came to visit when he was done sorting out his own priorities in life. No doubt in mind there deem to be more than enough on me plate when it came down to even facing life itself, however it was no reason at all that meant for one second I wouldn't be a good father to the tiny life which was bound to come at any moment in time.

As the second it came to me attention that the seed we planted together would make it's way into the world in the next seven months or so, the only image me mind could play out were the one's of the small form that await us with ten fingers and toes, a tiny button nose, and of course a tuft of fine, red hair - the last feature totally a part of wishful thinking, but nevertheless a feature that he and she would come to appreciate the older they were, as I did. After the first few scenarios took place, others, which included the sex of the baby, finally telling our families the good news, and the safety precautions she would now take as a mother, the visions swarming me psyche were quickly given a sudden closure to take in the fact that this baby was not only created out of love, but hurt as well.

They always say it's best to keep your friends away from your girl over the fear of losing them at the mere blink of an eye. Now I wasn't the type to steal what's not mine, however I also wasn't the type to leave someone when they were at one of their lowest points in life - how could I when I meself was going through a struggle of me own? Me mother was going through a never ending battle of leukemia that just wouldn't cease, even if she found out the news of her first grandchild, not to mention the more she lie in the hospital, the sicker she became, so it wasn't if I could express me grief out loud. I needed someone I knew, someone who wouldn't judge me over the stress that came with tears over the fact that me mother would possibly never leave the hospital again since she was too weak to function without a machine by her bedside. So that's when I went looking for Drew - me buddy, me chum, and me old pal, although what I found standing in the threshold of the hotel room was the crying figure of none other than the woman who would eventually be the mother of me child. We just didn't know it. Not her, not me, and definitely not Drew.

Through the semi-dark room where it seemed as if she had been crying the last hour or so, it didn't take long before she realized I wasn't in the highest of spirits meself. That night happened to be the first time we ever stood in a room alone together. No Drew in sight, which only made the walls surrounding the two of us exceptionally tighter - the first reason a rocket scientist himself could figure out from a mile away, however Taylor and I were just too oblivious to realize such. The only thing we were aware of the night our child was made is that we each needed someone to flesh out the conflict we both found ourselves going through.

Taylor wasted no time in sitting me down, the desperation dripping from her voice a clear sign that maybe it wasn't just me who was feeling full of need that evening, it was her too. Me thumbs twiddled in hopes of not saying the wrong thing to her since she seem to be on edge too, a half-smile tugging at the corner of me face to lighten the situation although it certainly wasn't possible. Before she could see me poor attempt at making the setting between us any better, the younger woman already disappeared into the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water for me that wasn't requested, but definitely needed. Others told me, yet I didn't want to believe it, but it seemed as if me body was even paler than usual, no thanks to the lack of liquids or sleep that came with the grief over me mother.

The younger woman's tiny frame took a seat next to me own, her eyes closing at the mere thought of what I would eventually find out the reason for her sorrows. Come to find out, she and Drew had been planning on a child for years now, however when the time came to ask of the reasons why they were still without child, she was thrown for a loophole hours earlier by the statement that a couple never wanted to hear: the woman was infertile. Didn't help matters that she was told the news right after he left for Texas, which would be no easy way to tell over the telephone.

"I shouldn't be dumping my problems on you, you're going through enough of your own with your mother," she stated, a forced chuckle dripping from her lips to escape the reality that she would never have kids. Anybody could see that this was affecting her, though. Her petite form trembled while her hands continued to rub together to rid herself of the the constant reminder that she would never carry a child to full-term.

"That I am, but it still doesn't mean I wouldn't want to listen to your story any less." Me eyes closed at the faint contact of Taylor's chin on me shoulder, her hand rubbing me arm in a soothing manner. The tears came down instantly, me lip quivered in such shame, for it wasn't every night that I showed these emotions in front others, Taylor of all people. We were at a point where we'd known each other well over a good five years, however the fact we were showing a rather vulnerability to one another was foreign to us both.

Me eyes opened to the subtle image of Taylor, her brown hues meeting me blue one's in the effort to check on me well-being. Here I was trying to put up a front that she could clearly see right through, me voice damn near ready to crack the longer the visions of me mother crying out in pain when she thought I wasn't anywhere in sight or the daily façade she put up just to ensure that me two sisters and I didn't have to see her this way, came into play. Her small hand swept away the tears that were starting to form, me mind screaming to just suck it up while me body couldn't but expel the salty liquid that wouldn't stop even if I tried.

During this time, I wasn't quite sure if it was the pain or rather a sudden rush of boldness, but the only thing I wanted to do at that very moment was to kiss the younger woman's lips the longer she fell under me gaze. Me mind had no clue that it was because I'd accumulated feelings for her over time, how it came to be was yet another uncertainty that at the time I couldn't even explain. She was best friend's girl, what did I look finding meself even remotely attracted to her? Except I did, whether me grief wanted to admit that or not. Me hand grasped her neck while the mere feel of her touch reached me face, me eyes rolling to the back of me head instantly. Before I knew it, the two of us were settled in a sweet kiss, one that would be of many more to come as the night when on.

By the time we were on the third kiss, it was pretty obvious as to where this would lead to - a night we would end up paying for until the day we died...or better yet _I _would end up paying for, that is if Drew didn't get to me first.


	2. Connections

**Author's Note:** Back with another chapter! Oh yeah! Thank you guys for all the amazing feedback; enjoy this incredibly long chapter. XD

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Chapter One - Connections

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Stargazing - one of the few things he was able to do when life didn't consist of sitting in a hospital for hours, watching different nurses and doctors enter and exit his mother's room; an escape from the reality, knowing his mother wouldn't have long to live.

He thought he would be used to such news by now, but the simple reminder that his mother had little to no chance of living only made his own existence on this Earth that much harder. How was one supposed to just function as if life was all dandy when their mother could leave this world behind at any second? Stephen wasn't sure, however he wasn't quite sure about most things as of late; one of them including the small form that would be here, eventually. As the due date neared, the Irishman couldn't help but find himself wrapped up in the images displaying things such as the baby's mannerisms, his first cries after springing into the world, as well as the connection that would sooner or later come between father and son. He knew the very last scenario of the three was a simple part of wishful thinking. The bond that a new father had with their child wasn't awaiting him, nor was it even for him; it was for Drew.

Not until a week ago, after an awfully vivid dream took place, that it dawned on him that he would have no part in taking his place as the individual that would be around during the special time when the baby's arrival would be near. The period before delivery was one of the many memorable moments that happened between the twelve hours or less in labor. One that definitely could be determined was the string of events that would lead to the hospital such as rounding up the baby's overnight bag, making sure he and the mother of his child knew how many minutes her contractions were apart, and most of all doing everything in his power to soothe the mother-to-be despite the fact he would be just as frantic. Sure, there could've been other instances where Stephen realized, but it was better now than never, he guessed. Although it still wouldn't change anything.

At this point, it was clear that he would give up all rights as a father. The fact such a dream made him that aware that he would be missing out on the experiences other than witnessing the birth of his newborn son made the decisions of giving up his child a second guess. Maybe just telling the truth to Drew wouldn't have been such a bad idea since it would in fact guarantee he had the full parental rights of his son. Though that was easier said than done, considering Drew wasn't a stranger, and taking away what the Scotsman thought was his wasn't any better. And to think his uncertainties would grant him the ability to be a father by just one slip of the secret he promised Taylor he would never speak of...They made the promise after she practically stated their child was better off in a home that consisted of two parents.

None of that "baby-mama/daddy stuff", as she put it. Her words came out like daggers against flesh; that statement by far worse than the one she implemented in the very beginning, which indicated he was better off standing on the sidelines rather than the actual homeplate when it came to fatherhood. Taylor's last intentions were not to hurt him, however she was confident in where she stood; it was best that Drew stay in the dark about the current circumstances, as it would further complicate things than they already were. Besides, he had other things to focus on such as his sick mother - how was he to juggle that, and a newborn child? The effort was indeed possible, but Taylor wouldn't allow Stephen to think otherwise.

The summer breeze brushed against his beard, tickling the few hairs above his lip. He had to admit that aside from all the subtle reminders of the instances in his life, sitting in a hammock, watching the stars in the distance brought him slight comfort. Stephen found himself wrapped in the night air on numerous occasions as of late, and each and every time he did, he thought about the "what if's". Nothing that lowered his spirits or anything, but just what if he had the opportunity to lie in this very spot accompanied by child. Patting the little one to sleep while silently thanking God for his blessings was just one of the many pictures in his mind. Tonight in particular, the scenario of introducing the baby to his sick mother was the case.

The scene would indeed be perfect, Stephen thought. She would be sick, but it would be the last of anyone's worries. Getting the chance to see his mother smile for the first time in a long time at the hands of his son was all that mattered. He could feel his lips form into a smile simply thinking about the scene, and before he could go further into detail, he was cut off by the sounds of an approaching figure through the backyard. His blue eyes mulled over to the sounds of heavy foot steps closing in, head popping up to gain a better view of the form, alas it was none other than his longtime friend, and the man he clearly betrayed: Drew Galloway.

"Stephen, man," the Scotsman uttered, a smile evident on his young face.

The Irishman's demeanor changed instantly the moment his best friend showed up unannounced. Stephen raked a hand through his red strands of hair as he slowly pulled most of his weight from the hammock into a seated position. "Drew-hey...," he trailed off, clearly at a loss of words to say anything at the moment...or better yet anything at all the last seven months or so. He was always so evasive towards the younger man, weaseling his way out of every conversation Drew initiated. Luckily the Ayr native took his odd behavior as a sign of more important things such as his mother.

Stephen rocked a bit in the sling, "So," his eyes looked elsewhere but unto Drew's. "what brings you by?" The Irishman's insides churned from the lack of genuine nature that came with his query. Had it been a year ago, those words wouldn't have even the slightest place in his vocabulary when it came to Drew, however most of his word choice didn't pertain to much these days. The redhead's gaze returned to the man standing before him, who still wore the same grin on his face.

"Got some news from the doctor today," he smiled a tad wider, accent by far more profound than usual by the way of such joy. Drew looked at the ground for a moment, reeling back to the images of Taylor's obstetrician informing them of the more than pleasant information they received earlier that day. "the baby's more than healthy! No complications in the pregnancy thus far, so Taylor will mostly likely have our little man with no problems. My little lad's gonna take this world by storm, Steph."

The Dublin native could feel the sharp pain wallow through his chest with the quickness; eyes stinging so badly, though he knew he wouldn't release his tears. What reason did he have? He licked his dry lips before gathering any sentence he could, all the while hoping he wouldn't succumb to the everlasting urge to cry. "That's um...that's great, Drew. I know you and Taylor are going to be great parents to the little guy."

Stephen nodded his head, hoping his words came out as convincing, though deep down inside the thought of his child being raised by another man killed him inside. The redheaded man was more than grateful to know his son would be taken care of by someone as loving as Drew, but fact remained, he wanted his son for himself. It wasn't as if he was going to demand Drew hand over the rights to the awaiting child, anyway; at the end of the day, Stephen was simply going by what Taylor felt was best, and he wasn't going to dispute that - no matter how much fatherhood meant to him.

"Thanks, buddy. Taylor and I were so scared during her ultrasound, we weren't sure what to expect. Hey, that reminds me...," Drew fished around in his backpocket for something that appeared seemingly important, because he was rather anxious in getting to the item. The moment he pulled out a small black and white photo, that familiar smile returned to the Scotsman's face. "The doctor gave us a few copies. Since you're the baby's godfather, I wanted you to have one."

If the knowledge of one stating the well-being of his own son didn't puncture his heart, this in fact did. In just a few moments he would be greeted by none other than the image of the tiny form living inside Taylor's womb, and he wasn't quite sure how to react to such. Drew placed the photo in Stephen's hand, patting the young Irishman's arm in the process. He was just as happy about sharing the photo than expressing the recent news of the baby. "This is our boy," he stated.

Stephen studied the print, eyes taking in the little features which accumulated over time courtesy of the journey towards birth. There he was; his little boy was right in that photo, and the only thing he could do was wipe away the few tears which prickle at his fair cheeks. The image of his son had caught him by the throat; his voice incapable of saying much of anything, for he was too mesmerized by the photo to say anything. A low whimper fell from his lips, but not loud enough for Drew to hear.

The only thing his best friend could do was stand there in admiration, watching him observe the details that made up the small life. Never once did the Ayr native pick up on the reason for Stephen's emotional investment; if anything, he took Stephen's joy as a form of how crazy he was about children, not to mention he was the baby's godfather. The Irishman's eyes met Drew's in a sense of gratitude, "Thanks for this."

"No worries. Haven't talked to you in a bit, we should talk over a couple beers if you have time."

Of course Stephen had time, but the last few months didn't really call for much drinking or socializing. The only time the Irishman pretty much did hold conversation among others (that did not include his mother's doctor) was at the arena, but the majority of such consisted in getting out of the conversation as quick as it started. Stephen would find any reason to cut his interactions with Drew short; sometimes he would pretend he'd gotten a call from the hospital, knowing his efforts were nothing more than a distraction to blow off his close friend. This was out in public, though. Now he sit in the comfort of his own home, possibly looking to dismiss Drew wouldn't be the same.

"I don't know, man. Supposed to be getting up early to see me ma. Don't want to go to the hospital drunk off me arse," he laughed dryly. Stephen didn't know how they got to this point, but pretty much every word that came from his mouth happen to be a sore attempt at being genuine. Sure, Drew didn't have a problem with his conviction, but Stephen himself did. The lack of honesty unto his best friend made him ill; the need to make an extra effort in making his words believable made him feel like a liar to his own self.

"Come on, lad, it's just one. And besides, you're Irish, since when have you turned down a drink?" Drew laughed, folding his arms across his chest.

Stephen couldn't quite pinpoint the question, however he recognized activities such as drinking, going out to clubs, and watching his favorite shows on the set had all been buried ever since his mother's health took a turn for the worst. Some hobbies just couldn't be enjoyed when you had other things on the mind like if your mother would live to see another day. He guess he could wash down one beer, though their conversation wouldn't be anything similar to the one's they had in the past courtesy of recent events.

"I guess I could have one. Be back," he added, tucking the ultrasound photo into his back pocket. Before the night was over he would take yet another glimpse of the piece of paper, hoping it would give him some type of strength in all this, because Lord knows it was only getting worse at the due date for Taylor neared. His large frame slid through the back door of his three story home, trailing into the kitchen for the beverage he would pretend he enjoyed in order to keep Drew off his back.

"They've been in the fridge for some time, so not sure how they taste," Stephen noted as he handed one of the two beer bottles over to the brunette man. He made himself comfortable in the wooden lawn chair across from Drew, not sure of what to expect or say in the conversation the younger man insist they have, so he sat in silence, instead.

"You well?"

Drew didn't really ask that, did he? Okay, he did, but Stephen couldn't really blame him. For starters, he didn't make things between the two of them easy. When you sit in silence, looking at the person opposite of you, there really aren't much ice breakers to go around. And then it was the fact his best friend was simply checking on his well-being. No, he wasn't well. He in fact felt like shit, however he wasn't going to express all reasons in the case of his current state.

Stephen brushed back his red hair before letting a sigh fall from his freckled lips, "Been better, but I'm holding up." His blue eyes met Drew's, having no need to ask of the obvious, as the man carried a smile on his face the last several months to clarify otherwise. The fact that he blabbered about the baby any chance he could made it clear that he happened to be doing more than great. "Thanks for asking."

"No worries. Thought I'd ask." Galloway threw his head back, gulping down an ample amount of the dark liquor in his hand. A smile formed on his face yet again; Stephen wondered if his friend's goofy-looking gesture had anything to do with the baby. The answer to the Irishman's query would possibly come to light if Drew opened his mouth to make clear of such.

"You know, I was thinking last night," he started off, those light eyes of his retracting to the ground, clearly bashful in accordance to his current statement. "and it just dawned on me how far we've gotten. I don't know, do you ever feel that way at times? Like, Taylor and I were talking about when I first got into the business, and I couldn't help but think back to when we first started out. I mean, look at us now. We've gotten to where we've wanted to be, and more. You're a former champion, big advocate for the anti-bullying campaigns going on, and have what it takes to become a household name. I'm too a former champion, done a couple memorable things, and I'm a-"

"You're a father." Stephen uttered - his own words took a nip at his heart this time around, therefor it was clear to see the current situation had been affecting him more than he thought in the first place, which explained his bitterness.

Biologically the child would be his, but in the case of the primary male figure in his life, Drew would be that, regardless. In other words, he held the title of father. He would be the one to change the little one's diapers; rock him to sleep when he was fussy, and ultimately, Drew would be the man his son knew as daddy or _papa_, as he would call his own father. He felt like such a hypocrite bringing up the topic of the little one when he absolutely hated when Drew did the same, but he was bitter, and oddly enough the ginger man himself didn't realize such.

"Yeah, I am." Drew thumbed the tiny stubble growing along his chin, perching his back against the lawn chair. There he was again in that silly daze which always came at the mere mention of the baby. "Few more months, I keep saying. I wonder how the little guy is gonna look - he may look like Taylor," he eyed the watch clinging to his wrist. "Must be getting home, lad. Promised her a warm bath before she nodded off, nice talking to you again."

Stephen feigned a smile, "Nice talking to you too." He lead Drew to the front of the house, watching the younger man give his final goodbye for the night. The Irishman didn't want to say it, but he was glad his best friend left as soon as he did. There were just too many reminders of what couldn't be. Sadly, the ultrasound photo he was given was the biggest that would stay with him everyday he looked at it. He just didn't know it.

His body fell back onto the brown sofa, a heavy sigh fell from his pink lips, "Fucking hell," he cursed out in the empty home of one. An echo filled the interiors of the Florida home, making Stephen's body shake on point. Sometimes the living space deem to be too quiet for his liking. Sure, he could blast some Metallica at a medium level, which would be well enough to keep the neighbors from barking at his door; could even invest in getting another dog. Hell, he couldn't even give the dog the attention it would need since he fell victim to the current issues in his life.

The Irishman's mind went back to the events that took place earlier in the night. Two weeks ago, this entire situation wasn't affecting him as much as it did right now, though in those two weeks he didn't experience the nightmare he woke up from that gave him quite the wakeup call. Nor was he dealt further more news in the case of his unborn child. If anything, he avoided it at all costs. How was one supposed to take the news he should've been telling others so lightly?

Salty tears took notice, the liquid burning his blue eyes on cue. His chest heaved in such anguish for his little boy, bringing forth another faint whimper to drip from his lips the moment such cries were known in the air. Stephen's fingers reached in his back pocket, revealing none other than the small piece of paper that would do him more good than bad the longer he marveled over the photo.

Another glance prodded at the tiny document before he altogether surrendered to his emotions, heavy sobs making it's presence well around the living room in no time. Why did Drew have to come by here? Why did he feel the need to say anything at all about the baby when he'd never asked in the first place? Stephen knew the answer, however the questions unto himself were something he still pondered.

His thoughts bordered to the fact that as the baby's godfather, this would ultimately be an inevitable circumstance; he couldn't circle around the issue forever - or rather until his son came, so there wasn't much argument behind that. Still, he wondered the reasons he'd been punished the last seven months; he figured his child growing up to simply know him as nothing more than the man who would take over his parents' duty as guardian if something were to happen to them, deem to be enough.

Then, there wasn't a day which traveled by where he didn't think about his betrayal - if not his own mother or child, those were the thoughts clouding his mind on an early morning in Tampa. He didn't tell Drew he was sorry, better yet didn't even show it, though he was more than remorseful about the decisions he made the night he came knocking on the door, only to wind up in bed next to Taylor. What could have been the reason for the horrid dream he experienced, as well as Drew's need to inadvertently remind him he wasn't a father (no matter how much Stephen tried to avoid it)?

The answer itself was hard to determine. His blue eyes flick adjacent to the ceiling, still releasing the impulses to just sit and simply cry his heart out. He didn't care who heard him, especially the nosey older couple two houses down. They would be stricken with his cries tonight, might even gossip to a few neighbors for his sorrows. Nonetheless, everyone's opinions following his low state did not faze him. The tears spilled down even faster down his pale face before he found himself looking back up at the ceiling, this time his mouth coiled into what seemed to be a form of words.

Stephen's freckled hands smocked away the tears blurring his eyes, "I didn't even mean to!" he cried out. His voice shook his humble abode, reeling in yet another ball of emotions to rise from his very being. Stephen himself knew the act of rage only a moment ago wasn't necessary, but if there was a way that he could hear God's explanation, he would be able to feel somewhat at ease. His large frame staggered to the mini bar sitting near the television set, eyes narrowing to the prized bottle of booze sitting near a fresh shot glass. Two drinks in one night wouldn't hurt.

As he untwisted the cap from the bottle of hard liquor, his body ache for the contents more than it should. Large fingers frantically maneuvered the top off before he shakily doused the shot glass full of the smokey liquid. The smell of honey lingered about his nostrils, leaving the familiar undertones to dance across his throat prior to the brown liquid entering his body. A sharp pain shot through his chest the moment the alcohol reached the bottom of his throat, making him feel as if her were an even bigger pile of garbage. Alcohol was supposed to be the answer, yet it was the exact opposite so far. He washed down another heap of scotch whiskey, feeling yet another round of tears come his way.

Times like these were when his mother came into play - that is before he decided on a cheap remedy like liquor to supply him with some sort of numbness. He wished he could just call her up to express his woes, so she could give him that word of advice he so desperately needed. Sadly, she wouldn't be doing any of that no time soon, for she had troubles of her own which consisted of dealing with a life-threatening ilness. And then there was the fact she had not even one clue of a grandson. None of his family knew of the little boy who would enter the world as none other than the child he gave up because he couldn't keep his emotions or body in check.

The sounds of heavy weeping expelled into the room, garnering Stephen's massive frame to hover over the mini bar in distress. Through his crying state, his hand happen to mull over the half-empty glass of scotch. He slowly picked up the object, preceding to bring it to his lips-that was up until the point where he found a better solution for handling the liquid at hand. The glassware took a curve against the wall instead, bringing forth a loud crackle to ricochet off the interior unto the open surroundings. The moment he turned his attention away from the mess he made, he set his sights back on the tray of glassware, one of them containing the booze he previously gulped down. The glass quickly shattered on impact, shards of the broken crystal flying everywhere.

Later down the line, he managed to get more than enough leverage over a few other items around the house, including the MacBook he recalled buying as soon he received his first wrestling check in American territory. Many memories he shared with the laptop to which all seemed a distant memory now after he decided to snap the device in two. Clearly he was not aware later on he would be scraping for every last file in the computer since it held grand memories when he first started out in wrestling, and of course before his mother fell ill. Currently, he was working on breaking the last table lamp, all the while looking for various other items to prey on next. As soon as he found a common ground among the setting which appeared as if a tornado made it's way through, his body slumped in one of the unoccupied corners of the room before bawling the night away.

_"Steph?"_

A couple hours later a familiar voice ring in his ear, slightly pulling him from his dry state, but not enough for him to form an answer. Footsteps approached the room, followed by a heavy gasp. By now they'd discovered the wrecked living room. Hopefully they wouldn't discover him too, sitting behind the sofa looking like some bump on a log. His body fidget a tad, hyperventilating by the way of his random outburst hours before, wanting anyone but the incredibly brash Stu Bennett to make their way into the building. He knew he would hear an earful in the upcoming moments.

Stu's face grimaced at the sheer sight of the Irishman, appalled to say the the least, but able to conjure up a few words along the lines of what the hell was Stephen thinking. The Irishman could only look at Bennett for a few seconds or so, knowing the longer he focused his attention, the more ashamed Stu would probably be. His freckled lips tremble amidst the diminished atmosphere, mouth agape to release nothing more than another hushed gasp of air. The round of sobbing warned over though the after effects didn't, pitting Stephen in an even lower disposition in the first place.

"Stephen, what the hell are you on?" Stu questioned, extending his arms in a something's got to give manner. The man went away to Japan for nothing more than a week only to discover this; he questioned what else could he have possibly missed. He finished, "I try to call you up and I come here to see you've wrecked your place - what are you doing, man? Get off the floor...," he reached out his hand to the older man, pulling him up to his wobbly feet. He didn't seem to be in any kind of position right now to talk, prompting Stu to head into the kitchen to for a bottled water.

After he had a little liquid into his system, he was going to explain the mess he made. No one needed to go that far off their rocker in order to cope a family illness - that's what the people who loved him the most were there for, especially Stu himself. Prior to leaving for Kyoto, he informed Stephen on several occasions to ring him up if he felt as though the odds were deeply pushed against him some nights. He knew some nights were harder than other for his friend, hoping he would indeed take him up on his offer incase he did plan on any outrageous behavior. Seeing as that Stephen did not, the offer was officially null.

Scoping around the fridge, noticing a few bottles of water alongside the door, Stu grabbed that plus an apple for extra measures. The Brit managed his way back into the living room, making sure not to step on anything in the process such as glass, frazzled pillows, and other items Stephen had no problem in rattling. The Dublin native would definitely be regretting his actions the next morning or possibly sooner. He was full of regret these days.

Stu tossed the Granny Smith to Stephen, hoping he'd catch the fruit in a type of state. The man could keep his focus on barely anything but his hand own hands, blue eyes grounded to the white, calloused forms, "Should calm your nerves," he added. The apple took a swipe at the couch instead, failing to get a rise out of Stephen like Stu thought it would. The brunette man cringed at the scene.

"Sorry about that," Bennett murmured, handing Stephen the bottled water. His friend failed to respond, resulting in Stu to saunter off into the kitchen to make a phone call. Never taking his eyes off his friend, he stated, "I need you to come by Stephen's quick - it's important." His accent flowed throughout the room, cutting to an end after making his brief statement known. Pretty much now it was obvious to see that Stephen wouldn't talk to him, however it wouldn't hurt in calling for a little backup, perhaps they could fulfill the task he couldn't.

"What's wrong with him?"

"I don't know, he won't talk to me or anything. When I came here had the entire living room fucked up." Stu answered Drew, who appeared rather concerned for the Irishman who was on the second floor in bed. Not even an hour ago they were talking over a bottle of beers, what on Earth made him go off the deep end? Surely couldn't have been anything he did. All he brought over was a little conversation about the baby and a few other subjects, nothing in what would make him wreck shop. "Think he's asleep, but when he wakes up can you please try to talk to the man? Think it has to do with his mother. I'm really, really tired and-"

"No worries," Galloway stated, cocking his head to the side in a sympathetic manner. "Go get some rest, I'll handle it from here." Stu nodded his head, taking an exit to the door, leaving Drew to finish what he couldn't. A heavy sigh exuded from his thin lips, feet guiding the way to the floor where Stephen's bedroom happened to be located. Along the way, during the walk to his room, Galloway ran across a few wrestling memorabilia. Most of them were simply photos, nevertheless a message behind every last one, including the celebration after Stephen won his first mainstream title. The bar had to have been filled to the brim the evening of, Stephen inviting anyone and everyone to gathering as if he knew them too. Those memories were no more than a few years old, yet felt as if it were longer.

A slight creak of a wood brought Drew back to the real world, prompting him to follow the noise wherever it came from, definitely wasn't up here, that's for sure. Stephen would have to wait a tad longer until he figured out who was the other visitor for the night. A possibility could've been Stu, having been here long enough that he'd probably forgotten his phone or car keys, another the neighborhood pup. Drew's head peered a little past the walkway before the steps. Well it was a visitor, alright. Just not who he had in mind.

"Taylor?"

Looking as if she were about ready to pop at any minute, the young woman standing near the steps spoke up. "I heard about Stephen," she huffed in between footsteps, clearly in no condition to be hiking up a flight of stairs, furthermore by herself. Drew took a standing by the pregnant woman's side, checking on her well-being before giving her a scowl only a father would.

"Didn't I tell you to stay in bed?" he questioned, escorting her to the leather bench along the wall. Drew folded his arms across his chest, awaiting the young woman's reasons for crawling out the bed this time of night when she should've been at home getting rest.

Flustered from her journey to the second floor, she answered, "I at least wanted to see how Stephen was doing. How is he?"

"Haven't checked up on him yet, was about to before I was so rudely interrupted," Drew chuckled, showing that familiar dimple many knew all too well. "You had better start taking my advice, lady before we both end up in the hospital. You keep straining yourself, Tay." He joined her near the seated area, rubbing her knee in a soothing motion. His touch obviously worked wonders since she was quick to close eyes with no request. Drew smiled at the mother to be, "Be good for me, I have to-," a whimper echoed from Stephen's bedroom, giving Drew the notion the Irishman had finally awaken. "Be back," he whispered against her dark hair.

She nodded in response. Her brown eyes opened to the image of Drew trailing his way towards Stephen's room - it wouldn't hurt to be a little nosey, now would it? A little leeway was left in the doorway, just enough so that she could hear the conversation going on in the other room. Her body toddled to the opening of the door, hand over her mouth to make sure she didn't come out sounding like a squeak toy if the baby just so decided to kick her in her the pelvis as he always did. Taylor's head inched towards the door before she heard the wooden surface squeak, body stifling back in the form of fear and surprise. Busted.

Drew's eyes crinkled in curiousness as he studied his girlfriend. The words he stated moments ago clearly went over her head as she stood there, figure slightly bent over. Ah, the baby must've been giving her abdominal pains again. Little booger couldn't keep still for five minutes, nevertheless a minute, he could see. The Scot's hand conscientiously made its way by her side, rubbing the round bump to calm her. "You okay?" He asked, worried eyes focused solely on her.

Of course she was okay. The woman made a trip up a flight a steps, plus down a flight in their own home, not to mention she couldn't stay still for a minute while he checked up on Stephen. Maybe she needed to check up on him instead she was so fixated on peeking into Stephen's room to see what was going on. The younger woman wet her full lips before contorting them in a manner that indicated an explanation bound to ensue, "I wanted to see how he was doing, that's all. Is he awake?"

"He's in and out of it, it seems. Lad just needs a good night's sleep to recuperate and he should be fine tomorrow. Going to get him a cup of water," Drew stated. There deem to be more to that statement; his words left a lingering notion. "would you mind sitting in here with him? Only take a split second."

She stood in silence for a few moments. To others the question may have been either a simple yes or no, but given the predicament, Taylor could only stand there, for didn't know how to answer such a bold question. For one, she would most likely be the last person he wish to deal with that evening. Sure, they were cordial around Drew. Made sure to never act as if they knew something he didn't, and of course behave as if he were just the godfather and she was the baby's mother. But that didn't mean Stephen took the act in the form of a smile on his face. The routine killed him inside; however, he wouldn't allow Drew to know this. Taylor gave Drew a faint smile before her lips curled into a smile, "Sure, why not?"

"Thank you!" Drew beamed, placing a swift kiss on her lips, and dashing downstairs to the kitchen. The moment she was left to stand there in thought, an ill sigh dripped into the air. The last time she and Stephen found themselves alone, she informed him how it was better for everyone, including his own mother that he not even claim his child as his own. Taylor couldn't be any more grateful for the months Stephen did have on the road, as it made things slightly easier when he wasn't around. The most they did cross paths happen to be the days Stephen came back home, but even then, they weren't even alone for more than two seconds for that to happen.

Her hand guided the door back until the instance pulled her into another atmosphere which consisted of Stephen's bedroom. The setting made her gulp, reminding her of the night she shared with the Irishman many months back. Of course they weren't in this very room when it happened - actually they were in a hotel room, but the subtle reminder of a bedroom and Stephen didn't exactly bring happy memories. She didn't regret the night she shared, laid nestled in the crook of the Irishman's arms; however, she wasn't thrilled about the results of that night, either.

Sympathy crossed her features as she gained the first sight of Stephen that night. Another sigh swooped into the air, pivoting her body to take a few steps forward, towards Stephen's bed. Taylor didn't know whether to keep standing there or join him on the bed. Would he bite her head off too if she did? A few seconds of contemplating deem to be enough for her to make such judgement before the side of the bed where Stephen was lying dipped down a bit from her exceptionally tiny body. She took in his pale features, studying his his grand chest which heaved up and down amidst his sleeping state. She could only wonder if their child would take after him in that case, as he looked like a sleeping baby. Her small hand brushed along his face, bringing forth a whimper to croak from his freckled lips.

Hazy blue eyes glazed open, seizing the opportunity to capture such surroundings before they could settle on the figure sitting beside him. "Taylor?"

Her brown eyes close, knowing there was no course of turning back. She would have to explain her reasons for showing up in his room, caressing his face, when all Drew asked of her was to simply keep an eye on him. Taylor tucked her hands in her lap, "Yeah, it's me...," she stated quietly.

"What are you doing here?"

Well he definitely cut to the chase quicker than she expected - so much for taking a chance. Taylor shook her head, "Nice to see you too, Stephen." She wanted to give a smart remark in return, but instead passed him a look of concern. "I wanted to see how you were doing...and because Drew wanted me to sit in here with you," her eyes mulled over to his hand, the back of his palm more puffy than usual by the way of a developing bruise. Despite his shortness, she wanted to help the man; after all, he was her friend before they fell into this situation.

"Well, I don't need you monitor me. I'm perfectly fine, so you go can now." He aimed to sit up, but could only wince from the festering pain in his left hand. The same hand he recalled knocking the thick glass of scotch over with, the after effects of his tirade creeping at him the very moment he was in the comfort of his own room. The Irishman bit down on his lip, damn near ready to bawl out a few words of distinct, yet couldn't for the dull pain in his hand wouldn't allow him to do so. His eyes failed to meet her, "Just go, Taylor. You obviously have more important things to do," he didn't want to admit he needed her more than he needed his own best friend. Fresh tears await to run down his fair cheeks, though held off.

"No, I really don't," a lump formed in her throat, watching Stephen in such a predicament. If he could just tell her what was on his mind, then maybe some of the air would clear. She knew the older man well enough to know he didn't behave in this manner, so something had to have come up for him to react the way he did. The brunette's small hand wavered over Stephen's, fingering the tender spot. A bold move, indeed, nonetheless a tension breaker as well. He warmed to her touch, feeling himself sigh in satisfaction. "We might not have been the closest, but you can still tell me anything, Stephen."

"Doesn't matter," he said. "Wouldn't change anything."

He was starting to test her, "Wouldn't change what? You're talking to me in riddles!" If Stephen continued at this rate, they would be old and grey by the time he made note of his sorrows. Then he looked down at her pregnant belly, giving her all the information she needed in order to stop her curiousness - for now, at least.

His eyes focused on the window across the room, looking at anything other than her bump to keep her from jumping at him with furthermore questions. Actually, if he were to grab the sole piece of reason for his misery, then maybe her questions would be clarified. His hand reached inside the nightstand sitting beside his bed, "Surprise." He lightly placed the ultrasound he was given on his thigh, looking at Taylor for some kind of response.

"How did-When-," she couldn't even form a sentence, the image of their child taking her by surprise. The last thing she expected looked her dead in the face. Her eyes met Stephen's before salty tears took notice from the Irishman. She knew he hated crying, their son and his mother deem to be one of the few instances when he ever did. As if it were yesterday, she could still remember the faint tears in his eyes the evening he came looking for Drew, yet found her.

The Irishman wiped his eyes, "Drew gave it to me, but I think it belongs to the both of you more," he shrugged. "I'm just the baby's godfather." He knew those words were far from the truth, but he definitely wouldn't be daddy in the upcoming months. He also knew the photo came to be part of him literally and mentally. Not only did the photo hold the image of the tiny being he helped make, but he'd grown attached to the document. The baby couldn't be any more close to him.

Taylor frowned at his words, "You know that's not true, Stephen. Under the circumstances, it's just not right that Drew knows. Do you really to hurt him by telling him this?" Now wasn't the time to state the obvious, he knew as well as her telling Drew about their night together would be anything but roses. Neither one of them wanted to hurt Drew, but he really didn't care to hear about how it would be best if he stayed in the dark about this. Although he fought within himself to never tell Drew, he would keep to his promise. "Why are you being so difficult about this?"

"Difficult about what? It's not very easy to just accept the fact you can't raise your own kid, because we fucked up, Taylor," his voice raised an octave, allowing that Irish accent of his to be so ever more profound than usual. He shook his head, not wanting to go into detail, but she definitely was taking him there. The woman would make him blow another gasket due to her lack of empathy. Yes, he fucked up, but to pretend as if he wasn't trying his best to be loyal to Drew and her was a slap to the face, "I go to bed every fucking night thinking about how I've screwed over my best friend. Damnit, you think it's easy knowing this entire thing is a lose-lose situation?" The Irishman's teeth clinch, practically boring holes in the mother of his child's soul, "Get out," he demanded.

"Sorry for taking so long, been on the phone with Stu." Drew's voice echo into the room, bringing both Taylor and Stephen's attention to the man standing before them. The man was so oblivious to everything around him that the tension thriving in the room didn't get to him quick enough. Silence fell upon the room until Drew noticed the ongoing lack of his words within his entrance. "Everything okay?" He passed the glass of water over to Stephen who currently had his back perched against the headboard of the bed.

Stephen took a sip of the cold liquid, "Everything is fine. Taylor and I were just talking about the baby. Right, Taylor?" He looked at the younger woman, a smile plastered across his pasty face in a rather mocking manner. How dare she act as if the situation regarding their child and Drew could be taken so lightly? She wasn't the one who gave up the rights to the baby nor would she have to look their child in the face, pretending as if she were something she was not. Stephen knew he did the right thing in making the sacrifices for the little boy on the way; however, his mother wasn't making the task any easier to deal with.  
"I think I'll be fine the rest of the night. I'm sorry for scaring you all, it's just...," he was cut off by Drew.

"We know, man. We know. Get some rest, eh?" Galloway glanced at the brunette sitting on the bed, "You as well. Come on, let's go home."

Drew didn't have to tell her twice before she was on her feet, anxiously awaiting their exit. Her feet hit the floor, taking one last view of Stephen prior to turning on her heel to the door. He shook his head at her for the second time. Needless to say, he couldn't be more anxious for her to leave, either - he'd had enough of her poor attempts at making him out to be as if he wasn't doing right for the baby, when he knew he in fact was. Come Monday, he would have to see her face again, for her knew she would be at the RAW taping in Orlando - she just needed to stay on her side of the arena, as he would stay on his.


End file.
